Drawl (read out loud)

A time to speak up


Think of it


As punctuation,

But rather

Dialect, decorated

By accented diacritical marks.


If I speak in such

A manner that’s averse

To the way your words wander,

Perhaps you should listen

To how variations

Play across our story:


Resistance exists

Along the blade

Of consonant’s hiss and click.

As the oldest god

Has whispered before:

The word changes the world.


(December 20, 2017)


Status Quo



Thanks for thinking of me

she wrote


When do I not? he thought

but did not reply


(June 17, 2018)

age’s descent



as if suspended

in air by a string—

separate for a moment

from my body— I watched

myself fall suddenly

to the stair’s landing

like a broken puppet

into a bloodied pile


(May 31, 2018)

Committed to Ritual



The days and nights pass

in calm acquiescence. As

expectations lurk without

patience, sad laughter slips

into conversation’s pauses.

We each drink to avoid the

silent ramifications: there’s

nothing to say; and, what’s said

means nothing. A stock phrase

spills from a stock question

in a communal recitation.

Only empty gestures remain

to conjure, with a hollow

dance, the clichés of love.


(May 10 2018)

I Slag Off Bits of Myself



moments decades gone by

twist tightly at my throat


I cannot speak beyond garbled

syllables juxtaposed like a collage


each angle cuts a new facet

to bend the light of reason


as prisms blur rainbows

across a darkened wall


I am shattered into colors

frayed and inarticulate edges


until what I once knew whole

fades into inconsequence


and regret like memory reverberates

throughout the gathering darkness


(March 9, 2018)

she lingers



above the brook’s surface,

as thought insinuates

itself past itself,

and petals escape eddies

to slip downstream

like small silent ships

without consequence,

here, on the rock’s face,

a sheen of mist,

far into the afternoon,

clings to shadows

folded within crevices

like secret notes

tucked furtively

into a back pocket

before she walks away


(February 25, 2018)

My Own Abyss



To resist




The nibble

And nip

Of niggling voices,


I must stop


To myself—


The snide




Which waits

To eviscerate.


(January 9, 2018)






Presumptuous tropes

Slip like ropes around my neck.

We are never free.


(October 31, 2017)